I matter. How do I ever grasp that? The person next to me matters. You have put seeds in my heart to grow into thoughts. Thank you. It’s because God matters. His existence. Who He is and what He has done for me makes my life matter. And like you said what I believe about myself matters. I think I like this article and creative variety as one of your best. Happy Birthday to a very special daughter who matters so much to me. Love you.
Beautifully written, Sharon. Yesterday at the park, I asked a group of women how we can age well? In our hearts, not just on the outside. I told them I am tempted to cover up my 43-year-old gray hairs silvering through my brown. I am tempted to disparage the changes to my body, even as I want to profess holy self-love from God, gratitude for this temple that gets to age. I know the right answers. I want to live them. Your essay captures the heart of what I am trying to express. We matter. Aging well matters. I thought of you the other day as I worked on my poem about my mom's hands. I remember chatting with you about it months ago, and I am still trying to find a home for that particular poem. :) I hope one day I can share it with you. Thank you for your beautiful and honest reflections here.
I'm saving this so I can read it again later. Thank you for these words! I feel challenged to honestly answer these questions for myself.
Thank you for reading, Olivia. It challenges me too, but so grateful the Lord keeps us moving further up, and further in, to quote Lewis. 😊
This was beautiful… so well written. Thank you.
I'm so glad you enjoyed it. 😊
I matter. How do I ever grasp that? The person next to me matters. You have put seeds in my heart to grow into thoughts. Thank you. It’s because God matters. His existence. Who He is and what He has done for me makes my life matter. And like you said what I believe about myself matters. I think I like this article and creative variety as one of your best. Happy Birthday to a very special daughter who matters so much to me. Love you.
Love you too, Mom! I'm so glad you enjoyed it! ❤️
Beautifully written, Sharon. Yesterday at the park, I asked a group of women how we can age well? In our hearts, not just on the outside. I told them I am tempted to cover up my 43-year-old gray hairs silvering through my brown. I am tempted to disparage the changes to my body, even as I want to profess holy self-love from God, gratitude for this temple that gets to age. I know the right answers. I want to live them. Your essay captures the heart of what I am trying to express. We matter. Aging well matters. I thought of you the other day as I worked on my poem about my mom's hands. I remember chatting with you about it months ago, and I am still trying to find a home for that particular poem. :) I hope one day I can share it with you. Thank you for your beautiful and honest reflections here.
And if you would know God be not therefore a solver of riddles.
Rather look about you and you shall see Him playing with your children.
And look into space; you shall see Him walking in the cloud, outstretching His arms in the lightning and descending in rain.
You shall see Him smiling in flowers, then rising and waving His hands in trees.
- Kahlil Gibran